


Of Red Rose and Branded Skin

by maaldas



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, Dirty Talk, Gunshot Wounds, Knifeplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Organized Crime, Romance, Tattoos, Violence, mob!J2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:11:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaldas/pseuds/maaldas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles was one of the most influential mob bosses in the city. He was cold, intelligent and unforgiving. After an assassination attempt at his life was thwarted by his right hand man Jared, he began to suspect that there was something fishy in the crime world that was threatening his power and integrity in the mob business. Along with his deadly shadow and silent killer Jared, Jensen overruled his enemies and made it clear who was the boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> BETA: jonjokeat, theendermen
> 
> Told in the setting of late 1940s when attitudes towards homosexuality were not as liberal as they are now. This fic is also not historically accurate as it is AU. The author has done extensive research as best she could in regards of her limited knowledge of the time frame.
> 
>  
> 
> Written as a respond for a challenge at spn_illuminated for a beautiful and badass art here and an intriguing prompt by the lovely and talented digitic.
> 
>  
> 
> The Prompt: J1 being the boss of the largest mob organization in the country, J2 being his silent right hand, who everybody is afraid of (can be the best killer amongst them). Nobody suspects the "right hand man" is actually the boss's sub. A rival group finds out and "tries" to threaten and compromise them with outing their relationship (it's the 30's/40's and being gay is a BAD thing).
> 
> The J2 scare the living daylights out of the f****ers (or kill them) and make clear who's the boss. Nobody even DARES to say a word about it after that. The J2 enjoy their new freedom with some PDA (or public!sex).
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: All of real people you’re about to read here? Never know them certainly don’t own them.

 

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00008332/) Cantantonia City was at its peak. Its businesses flourished from the dawn of the day until late into the night and its citizens were well fed. Its harbour was always overflowing with ships and merchants from all over the country, even from overseas. The bright lights of Cantantonia attracted many optimistic souls to temp their luck in the city. Many had failed, yet many had succeeded. Among those who had succeeded, planting the roots of their business within the confines of the city were the Morgans. Jeffrey Dean Morgan came into town aboard a trading ship that carried silk and satin, the luxuries of the time. In five years his business had thrived and he was soon known as one of the most successful businessmen in the city. Although, very few knew that he was also the head of one of the most notorious mob gangs in Cantantonia.

Unfortunately, with no wife, he had no successor. His success in business was not matched in romance. Oh, he had plenty of women of all ages fawning over him, Morgan was not a hideous looking man but none of them had given him an heir to take on his legacy. The closest thing he had to offspring was his sister’s only son, Mark Pellegrino, who was now the centre of the discussion between him and the Chief Inspector of Fox District, Victor Hendrickson.

“I’m a patient man, Morgan but he was out of line. How many dead bodies do you think I can hide and how many litres of blood do you think I can wipe away, not to mention the smell. Sooner or later head office will notice the stench wafting in from Fox District, then where will I be?” Victor Hendrikson ranted at the middle aged businessman/crime boss of Cantantonia.

Morgan just smiled and chuckled to hear the complaints of the young police inspector who increasingly sounded like a whining child.

“Listen, Chief. I’m not trying to belittle your problem. I’m not!” Morgan touched his chest, looking sincere. “I completely understand your situation. It’s a dilemma and I’d understand if you wished to be redeployed to another district. Hell, I’ll even put in a good word with Cornell and get you promoted to down town but I need you in your post right now.”

Victor let out a pained sigh and made a gesture with his hands but before he had uttered a word Morgan interrupted, “Listen, Mark is troublesome and even I don’t know what went wrong with that kid growing up but I’ll discipline him. He won’t bother you anymore. I have business with the Ackles family in that district and I don’t wish to see it flounder because of the immature behavior of one man.”

Victor shakes his head, unhappy with Morgan’s decision.

“A month. I’m giving you a month. Curb your nephew or I’ll lock him up. His hands are drenched red all the time. Won’t be difficult to put him in jail for good,” threatened Victor sternly.

Morgan’s smile was frozen for a split second before blooming confidently on his lips. The young chief should have known that Morgan did not take threats lightly.

“Then, I guess we’re in agreement,” said Morgan with a satisfied smile which was returned by the Chief’s disgruntled one. “Why don’t we enjoy the night, Chief Hendrickson?”

Morgan lifted up his hand, signalling the waitress to bring more wine to the table. They were seated in a VIP room on the second floor of one of the plushest restaurant in the city. There was a circular room hanging above the miniaturist pool in the middle of the restaurant that was available by reservation only. The room was surrounded by one way mirrors which made it impossible for the outside patrons to look inside. The circular room was divided into six individual private sections like a tray of pizza right in the middle of which was a bar that catered to the VIP guests.

Morgan and Chief Hendrickson spent a few minutes enjoying the top quality wine before Morgan begged to leave. Chief Hendrickson stayed behind preferring not to be seen walking out with the notorious crime lord. Upon coming out of the VIP room, the crime boss was immediately flanked by his two bodyguards and another man followed slightly behind him to his left.

“Get the car ready!” ordered Morgan to his aide, Chris.

“It’s been waiting for you, sir.”

They walked past the receptionists desk as the Maitre d bowed to them. “Thank you for coming, sir. Have a nice evening!”

Chris answered him with a slight nod and a smile but after they had gone through the door, he stepped out from behind his high desk to duck behind the huge plant in a corner retrieving a hand gun.

The bodyguards came out of the restaurant heading straight for the brown car parked right  outside the restaurant as Morgan, looking smart in his blue grey suit and a grey-white fedora, followed them at a slower pace, talking to Chris.

“Did you send my parcel to Ackles?” asked Morgan to his aide, voice a bit muffled by his cigar.

“Yes, sir! But Pellegrino keeps pestering him,” Chris reported, “he threatened to make a statement by closing down his business. Says it’s unprofitable and he refuses to cater to Ackles’ brewery without proper compensation.”

Morgan stopped before his opened car door to take out his cigar and spit on the floor between his feet.

“That fucking lazy kid!” he grumbled, “like father like son. I swear if I had not promised his mama I’d have kicked his ungrateful ass years ago! I never knew what my sister saw in that lousy, good-for-nothing ex-husband of hers.”

“Hey, Morgan!”

There was a shout from inside the restaurant and the next second two shots were heard, breaking the somewhat calm of the night, sending all the patrons into a panic. Morgan sprawled on the floor bleeding heavily as his bodyguards frantically drew their guns. The Maitre d did not last long. He was killed by Morgan’s men just five seconds after he had downed his target.

At the same time, a black car came speeding down the road around the corner of the street. A man stood up from the backseat window brandishing a Tommy gun and pointing its muzzle at the front of the restaurant. The screams from the patrons inside the restaurant were swallowed by the rat-tat-tat-tat sounds of Tommy guns raining bullets towards Morgan’s remaining men downing them all in seconds. "Fuck you to hell, Morgan!" shouted the gun man from inside the moving car as it sped away.

  
**Ackles Residence, Rose District, Midnight…**   


Jensen grabbed Jared’s long brown hair and pulled his head back to bite his long neck as his hip ground down relentlessly, cock firmly lodged between Jared’s buttocks.  
  
“What did you say, Jay? I can’t hear you,” whispered Jensen in Jared’s ear.  
  
“F-fuck me,” stuttered Jared, panting hard.  
  
“How dare you tell me what to do. I want you to beg for it, Jay,” Jensen growled, eliciting a strangled moan from the younger man.  
  
“Oohh… P-please … please master… f-f-fuck me...”  
  
Jensen felt his cock harden as Jared writhed underneath him. His sub had been rubbing his own cock on the silk sheet looking for friction but Jensen knew that Jared would not dare to come before he said so. He had got him trained so well that he only knew pleasure at Jensen’s hands (or should he say cock).  
  
“Shhh… I’ll take care of you but only if you behave. Now don’t move.”  
  
Jensen let go of Jared’s hair and sat up to straddle Jared’s hips. He rubbed his palm along Jared’s quivering back as the younger man buried his face in the pillow, marveling at how the glistening fine sheen of sweat making Jared’s tan skin glow under the light in their bedroom. His fingers were caressing the tattoo permanently inked on the small of Jared’s back where his cock was settled at that moment. It was a small tattoo of Jensen’s initials intricately designed a symbol of Jensen’s ownership over Jared’s body.

In truth, Jared’s heart and soul also belonged to Jensen. It had been that way ever since that fateful day when he beheld the older blond boy, spewing gibberish at him in a concerned tone, the first time he had opened his eyes in this country. The same blond boy, who had then tutored him to speak, read and writes proper English and protected him throughout their childhood years. He was six at the time and knew nothing more than his own first name.

“So beautiful… and only mine, right Jay?” murmured Jensen to which Jared responded with an impatient grunt that sent Jensen chuckling in mirth. He loved to tease Jared, loved to hear him beg. He knew their way of life went against what society dictated as normal but he could not deny what his heart told him about Jared.

Jensen reached out to the bedside table on his right to get hand lotion that he always kept ready there. Once he had poured a generous amount of the milky dollops on his left hand, he lifted Jared’s hips slightly to shove a pillow underneath. He teased Jared’s hole with his lotion coated fingers for a few seconds before delving inside the hot crease. They had been doing this for so many years that Jared’s body has a muscle memory when it came to Jensen’s sexual ministrations. Jensen loved how Jared’s body seemed to readily accept his intrusion. He could not wait to bury his aching hard cock inside that hot cavern.

After he had rubbed around inside Jared’s puffy ass hole with his fingers, he pulled them out and positioned himself at the entrance. Jensen grabbed Jared’s hips with both hands as leverage before pushing his cock in.

“Oohh … fuck! Jayyyy…” Jensen groaned as the head of his cock was firmly sheathed inside. “I’m gonna fuck you long and hard. What d’you say, Jay?”

“Just do it please… please…”

Jared braced himself as Jensen’s cock started to penetrate him. He held himself steady as he lifted his head from the pillow. He let out a choked gasp as Jensen pushed the rest of his hard rod inside hitting all of his pleasure buttons in just one go.

Jensen shifted his knees more firmly on the bed as he leaned down to whisper in his sub’s ear, “are you ready, Jay? D’you want me to move or shall I just let my cock stay inside you like this for the rest of the night?”

“Oohh…please… please move master… I can’t take it anymore…”

“Like this?”

Jensen moved his hips to give a short hard thrust that seemed to send his sub crazy with lust.

“Yesss!! Ohh… fuck!” Jared screamed with abandon as Jensen’s cock tip hit his prostate. He knew Jensen loved to hear him scream whenever they were fucking. Jared would do anything for Jensen’s pleasure, already imagining Jensen’s pleased smile when he heard him scream.

Jensen let go of Jared’s hips to find purchase on his tensed shoulders, bracing himself for a long, hard fuck. He sat up and leaned back putting both hands on Jared’s shoulder as leverage. Jared moaned and gasped loudly beneath him.

In the middle of their almost mindless rutting on the bed, Jensen was snapped out of his lustful daze as the door to the master bedroom suddenly opened with force. Jensen’s eyes were widened in surprise at seeing a stranger standing beside the door frame. Yet, his instinct took over when the glint of the bedroom light hit the silvery metal of a gun. He rolled away to his right and off Jared’s body, forcefully dislodging his cock from Jared’s abused ass and threw himself to the floor just when a shot was heard.

The burning pain on his ass hole sent Jared’s mind reeling before awareness slammed back like a hammer to his skull when he heard the shot. He quickly slipped his hand under the pillow to retrieve his knife before rolling to his left almost at the same time as Jensen’s body hit the floor, knife ready in his hand. In a split second, the gun thudded to the carpeted floor as Jared’s knife was embedded into the intruder’s right chest. The assassin staggered out of the bedroom as quickly as he could as Jared jumped off the bed to give chase.

The tall man snatched a gun that he kept underneath the bedside table and ran in all his naked glory out of the bedroom intent on killing the intruder. He shot him in the back twice as the bastard was running away holding his bloodied chest. When he was satisfied that the intruder was dead, Jared ran back into the bedroom to check on Jensen.

He found Jensen sprawled on the floor beside their bed with a bleeding shoulder.

“Ughh… fuuuck!” Jensen groaned, hand pressing his right shoulder as he gritted his teeth in pain.

Jared dropped to his knees beside him dropping his gun carelessly on the floor. “Jensen, let me see.” He pried open Jensen’s hand to look at the wound before his face turned sour.

“What?” asked Jensen tersely. He knew that something must be bad when Jared’s face was pinched like that. “Tell me, Jared!”

“The bullet’s still in. Hold on, please.” Jared slipped his hands under Jensen’s back and knees then heaved him off the floor. He deposited him on the bed before running to the bathroom to get a towel.

A drap-drap-drap sound was heard fast approaching before Jake showed up on the door in his bathrobe, looking bedraggled with his bed head and red eyes. “What’s going on, sir? There is a dead body in the hallway.”

“There was an assassination attempt on Jensen,” answered Jared while he pushed the towel onto Jensen’s wound.

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Jake as he stepped closer to the bed noticing bloody towel. He was not at all disturbed at seeing the boss and his right-hand man both naked. “I’m gonna call the doctor,” said Jake before running out of the room closing the door behind him.  

Jared knew that the house had been awakened and he was sure that there was uproar outside of their bedroom right now but he could care less. He knew Jake would take care of it. Right now, his sole attention was on Jensen and Jensen alone.

“How’s it, Jared? Is it bad?” asked Jensen as he bit his bottom lip to staunch the pain that spread through his chest and neck like a slow trickling lava.

“The blood won’t stop. Where the hell is the Doctor?!” Jared grunted, pushing harder on the wound. The formerly white towel was now drenched in red and Jensen’s eyes were getting droopier by second. “Please stay with me, Jen. Just hold on. The Doctor’s coming.”

Jared stood stoically at the end of the king-sized bed, feature closed off and arms crossed in front of his wide chest as the Doctor wrapped bandage around Jensen’s right shoulder. The Doctor had managed to extract the bullet from the wound and had stitched it before dosing Jensen up with high dose of painkillers and antibiotics. Jensen was adamant in refusing hospital treatment, stating that he would not give the enemy the satisfaction of knowing that they had managed to hurt him. After all, there was only one guy and the house had been sealed soon after Jared killed him. So, whoever sent the assassin would not hear anything hopefully for the next few days. Oh, they would be suspicious when their assassin did not report back but they would not know that Jensen had been hit.

Jared had rounded up the guards and even ordered the Doctor to stay in the house for as long as Jensen needed treatment. Other than the doctor, there was no one getting in or out of the gate. He also sent Jake to question the rest of the men and warned them to keep their mouths shut and not let anyone outside of the family know of anything that happened in the Ackles house that night. Everyone who was not in the house was suspect. Jared was sure when Jensen woke up he would demand the same thing.

There was a knock on the door before it opened to reveal Jake’s grim expression. Jared glanced briefly at him before returning his gaze to a pale Jensen on the bed. He was sleeping now and Jared felt wary of leaving him alone with the doctor at the moment. Ever since the failed assassination attempt, he did not trust anyone to be near Jensen. However he knew he needed to question the guards and told Jake to stay with Jensen and the doctor.

He waited for few seconds before following Jake outside, finding his grim expression unsettling.

“What’s it?” asked Jared quietly as he closed the door behind him. Jake stepped closer to him and Jared had to lower his head to listen.

“Traci called. Morgan’s dead.”

Jared reeled back feeling like he had been punched in the gut. He looked at Jake in disbelief. “Is she certain?”

“The cops’re in frenzy. She got a call from her colleague who covers the news, said it’ll be in the paper tomorrow.”

“Dammit!” Jared cursed loudly, snaking his hand through his long hair. Then he pinched his bottom lips in contemplation. It was impossible that tonight’s attempt at assassination was coincidence with the shooting of Morgan.

“D’you think it’s connected?”

“What d’you think? ‘Course it is.”

“Then, Jensen must know.”

“He will… and he won’t be pleased.”

The door to the master bedroom opened behind Jared and the doctor stepped out.

“Well, gentlemen, I think we shouldn’t have to worry. With proper bed rest Mr. Ackles would be up and about in less than a month,” reported the doctor with a nod towards Jared. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to return to my room.”

“Sure, Doctor. Thank you for your help.” Jared gave a nod as he made eye contact with Jake. Jake nodded at him once before following behind the doctor’s retreating form to escort him back to his room while Jared went back inside the master bedroom to stay with Jensen.

Jensen was awake the next day when the painkiller wore off. Since the Ackles house was in total lock down during the next two days, Jared had been spending most of his time in the master bedroom with Jake appointed as the go to guy between Jared (and in extension Jensen) and the men. He waited patiently, kneeling beside Jensen’s bedside, for Jensen to acknowledge him when the jade green eyes roamed around the room, blinking rapidly in an attempt to shed the remnants of anaesthesia from his system. 

Finally, those wandering eyes fell on Jared’s worried face. He lifted up his right hand, wincing slightly as the painkiller only slowly let go its clutch on his nervous system, to touch Jared’s cheek with his fingers. Jared hurriedly grabbed his hand pressing his cheek into Jensen’s palm as Jensen’s thumb rubbed his closed eyelid lovingly. Jensen’s eyes were still a bit cloudy but he was sharp enough to demand a full recount from Jared.

“Tell me what happened while I was unconscious,” demanded Jensen to Jared in a raspy voice.

“I sent Jake to lock the house down while I talked to the guards and the rest of our men. Other than the doctor, no one entered the property, as far as I can tell, no one got out either. I went through the rest of our men, they are all accounted for,” reported Jared.

“And the assassin?” Jensen quickly fired the next question at him.

“Dead,” answered Jared just as quick. “I shot him twice in the back when he tried to escape but he had already got my knife in his chest. I’m sure even if I hadn’t shot him he would have been dead by the time he left the property not to mention our guards would’ve shot him on sight.”

“Any marker on him?”

“Not that I can tell. His skin is clear. No mark whatsoever nor jewellery of any kind,” said Jared shaking his head.

“He’s good,” commented Jensen before he amended, “or just dispensable. Depends on who sent him.” Jensen pulled his hand back and rested it on top of the comforter. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, thinking and plotting his next move.

“I need to tell you something,” Jared started. Jensen reopened his eyes and turned his head to his most trusted right hand, giving him his full attention. “Morgan’s dead. Shot in front of the Executive Restaurant down town.”

Jensen let out a long sigh. “That’s what I was worried about. Finally, the rabid dog has bitten the hand of his feeder.”

“Pellegrino?”

“Who else? The question is now,… who’s in our midst … backstabbing us?” asked Jensen, looking into Jared’s eyes meaningfully.

“I’ve secured the house and questioned the men-”

“They won’t still be here regardless of the outcome of tonight’s attempt,” Jensen cut off Jared’s explanation. “If it’s Pellegrino behind all this then he _would_ have made sure he was far enough away to be able to wipe his hands of it. He’s bold, I’ll gave him that, but not that sneaky. He prefers open fire to cutting under the sheet. More bandit than mobster.”

Jensen ended his musing with a wince and small gasp that got Jared scrambling off the floor. “I’ll go fetch the doctor.”

Jared almost dragged the old doctor behind him as he walked ahead clutching a bag of blood in his hand. The first thing the doctor did was replace the blood bag and check the IV transfusion while Jared busied himself by bringing a chair from the corner of the room to place it beside the bed, the one the doctor  had sat in when he had treated Jensen the day before. They both helped Jensen to sit up higher against the headboard. Then Jared let the doctor to remove the bandaging around Jensen’s right shoulder, treat his wound and re-dress it.

“You’ve been healing nicely, Mr. Ackles. I assure you, there’ll be no more than a scar in three weeks,” said the Doctor as he re-bandaged Jensen’s shoulder.

“When will the funeral be held, Jared?” asked Jensen from bed. He was reclining against the headboard with two pillows behind his back while looking at Jared who was hovering a few inches behind the doctor.

“Friday,” answered Jared quietly. He knew that Jensen would want to attend the funeral no matter what condition he was in.

“Then I’ll need a lot of painkiller on Friday.”

“Sir, I strongly suggest that you have full bed rest for at least a week before venturing on any strenuous activity,” protested the doctor.

“If you know me, Doctor, you’ll know that I won’t be strapped down to a bed just because of a small wound. Definitely not gonna give satisfaction to my enemy.”

The doctor let out an exasperated sigh, “like father like son. You Ackleses are a bunch of stubborn bastards.”

“Hey, watch what you’re saying, Doctor. I may owe you my life but you’re not the only doctor I can afford in this city,” Jensen warned the doctor in mock threatening voice.

“Of course, Mr. Ackles. Please excuse my impudence. Now rest,” said the doctor with a fond smirk on his lips as he stood up from his chair beside the bed, tapping Jensen’s knee from above the blanket. The Doctor was an old man near his sixties. He had been the Ackles family doctor since the reign of Jensen’s father.

“Crazy doctor,” muttered Jensen, eyes following him as the old man left the room. When the door was snapped shut he gestured to Jared with one crooked finger to come to him. Jared quickly pulled back the wooden chair from beside the bed to the corner of the room near the mini bar. Then, he knelt on the carpeted floor on where the chair was before with his head down.

Jensen ran his fingers through Jared’s long brown locks then held his jaw and right cheek in his palm before lifting Jared’s chin up. “I know you’re worried. Don’t be, I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ll have you beside me all the time. I trust you with my life, Jared.”

“I wish you wouldn’t put so much faith in me. I always put your safety above my own but yesterday… I… I failed. I long for your forgiveness but I don’t think I deserve it,” said Jared forlornly, tucking his head further down despite Jensen’s firm hold on his chin.

“That’s rubbish!” exclaimed Jensen sternly. “He broke into our home, Jared.”

“But that only happened because I was careless. I should’ve checked the security more carefully, should’ve reminded the guards to patrol the perimeter around the property more often. Especially, with the recent restlessness around Fox district-”

“Shhhh …” Jensen put his thumb on Jared’s lips silencing the younger man. Jared immediately bowed his head again avoiding Jensen’s eyes. “I’m not angry at you,” said Jensen with a warm smile on his lips, thumb rubbing Jared’s lips coaxing it to open before he slipped the tip of his thumb between the pink lips. Jared’s equally pink tongue darted out to wet his lips and taste Jensen’s thumb.

“Mmhhm…” Jensen’s moan was strangled in his throat before he pulled his thumb out of the tantalising lips of his lover. “Umm … did you sleep on the floor while I was unconscious, Jared?”

Jared did not answer, he still did not know how Jensen would react. He just fidgeted slightly, shifting his weight on his knees from left to right, biting his bottom lip, eyes flitting guiltily from the his hands to the end of the bed. Jensen rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

“Come on up, Jared.”

Jared’s head snapped up, looking at Jensen with wide eyes. “But, but,… you’re still sick. The doctor said you must rest.”

“Will you come up here, now?” Jensen’s eyebrows went up as he hit Jared with an intimidating stare. “Don’t make me go down there and get you, Jared.”

That made Jared get off the floor for the second time that afternoon. He hesitated for a few seconds at the foot of the bed until Jensen gestured with his left hand, asking Jared to get on the bed from the left so as to avoid this injury. Jared happily crawled on the bed, relief coursing through his heart.

Jensen lifted up his arm admitting his lover to nestle within the confine of his arm. Jared laid his head on Jensen’s left shoulder, looping his arm around his master’s chest, careful of his injury.

“Stupid giant goof” muttered Jensen fondly, hand stroking Jared’s hair as the giant goof sighed contently.


	2. Second Chapter

 

 

**Three days later, Morgan’s Mansion, Brock District, Midday…**

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/0000ardc/)  Against expectation, the funeral of one of the most influential people in Cantantonia was only a simple gathering of family and friends (though they’d rather call themselves business associates).

The ceremony was held in the back garden of the house with only ten rows of chairs facing a black with gold lined casket up front. Morgan’s immediate family sat in the front row; his sister Samantha Pellegrino and her son Mark, his cousins and their families. His loyal men were seen standing guard around the house and escorting the guests.

Jensen came with Jared with two of his men flanking him. He had donned his best suit in respect for the deceased’s memory. The Ackleses and The Morgans had been business associates for as long as Jensen could remember. His father had a long history with Morgan, and though not all of it was pleasant, they had got along well through the years, until Mark Pellegrino was given his own turf. Jensen could never understand why old Morgan gave such responsibility to that man. He had lost count of all the times he had caused trouble in his district alone. Jensen had several businesses in Fox District and his patience had been tested many times.

“Oh, Jensen!” Samantha stood up from her chair as she saw Jensen walk down the aisle. She draped herself trembling over Jensen as her tears overflowed. She accidently hit Jensen’s wounded shoulder in her desperate attempt to secure Jensen’s comfort.

“Shhh… there, there, Samantha. I’m so sorry for your loss,” soothed Jensen in a calm and controlled voice even though his shoulder burned like crazy. He could only grit his teeth and swallow the pain although he was sure Jared noticed it.

Jared, for his part, was desperately trying to contain his rage at Pellegrino who sat nonchalantly in the front row. He was sure that Pellegrino was the one who had masterminded the assassinations against Jensen and Morgan. While his plan to kill Jensen had been thwarted, his plan to end Morgan had been successful and it was only a matter of time before the slimy bastard would try to bring Jensen to his end again, either by destroying his business or by killing him, whichever came first. He was watching Pellegrino like a hawk as the man stood up from his seat to approach Jensen.

Pellegrino took his sweet time walking from his seat to the middle of the aisle where Jensen was soothing the distraught Samantha, Morgan’s sister, Pellegrino’s mother. He had buried both his hands inside his pant’s pockets, walking slowly, almost cockily, his calculated stare never leaving Jensen.

Jensen did not back down under the onslaught of coldness and open hatred from Pellegrino.

“There, there, mom. Come on let the poor man go. He can barely breathe with you squeezing him like that,” Pellegrino chuckled mirthlessly as he peeled his mother from Jensen’s arm. The poor woman quickly sprung away looking at Jensen sheepishly.

“I don’t mind, really. Samantha and my mother were close friends so we know each other well. I can understand how distraught she is,” replied Jensen letting go of the sobbing woman. Pellegrino’s eyes sent daggers towards Jensen’s for his play in sympathy.

“I’m so sorry. I got carried away,” said Samantha as she stood beside her son frantically wiping her tears. “I think I better go inside. Mark, would you attend to the guests?”

“Yes, mother, of course,” said Pellegrino as he kissed her mother’s cheek.

“Thank you for coming, Jensen.” Touching his arm, Samantha spared Jensen a sad smile before leaving both men to go inside the main house. Jensen nodded at her politely.

“Well, you look a little pale, Ackles. Should go inside for few minutes? Misha can entertain you,” Pellegrino hit Jensen back for his remark.

Jensen sent him his most assured smile, which was of course part of his game, as he countered, “Just my complexion, Pellegrino. What can I say, I’m spoiled. I’m here to pay my last respects to Morgan. Obviously that comes first. I’ll see Misha later, I need to talk to him about business anyway.”

“Of course,” Pellegrino smirked before smoothly stepping aside giving way to Jensen. When Jensen passed him, he spoke quietly near Jensen’s ear, “all business dealings fall to my control now. It’s best you remember that.”

“We’ll see if you’re worth it. Nothing’s fixed in this business. It’s best that you remember that,” shot Jensen back quietly, looking straight ahead with head held high. Pellegrino should know that Ackleses never responded well under threat.

Jared hid his pleased smirk by looking sideways as he followed closely behind Jensen ignoring a sour faced Mark Pellegrino. They resumed their path to the waiting coffin, paying their respects to the late and well respected mob boss.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/)

“Please have a seat.” Misha Collins approached the small bar at far side of the wall of guest room and offered Jensen a drink. “Brandy? Bourbon?”

“The usual,” answered Jensen as he took a seat on one of the long chairs surrounding a white marble table in the middle of the room. Jared remained standing behind him, hands in his pockets, relaxed.

Misha returned with a glass of bourbon in each hand, placing one in front of Jensen as he slumped down on the other long chair facing Jensen, with bourbon glass in hand.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been the best host today, Jensen. You must know that Morgan did actually leave a good pile of unfinished business with his abrupt departure.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the problems that have arisen. I’m worried that those problems will spread to my district. I’m interested in what you’ll do about it?” asked Jensen genuinely curious. He leaned back on the sponge backed chair, adjusting his black suit jacket by popping open the buttons and reaching for the bourbon glass with his right hand. Left hand draped over the back of the chair.

“Ahh, yes.” Misha downed his glass in one gulp before exhaling tiredly. “That’s our main inconvenience. For a while, he’s been more of a thorn in our side than a benefit to the family but Jeff’s … had a soft spot for him, or for Samantha to be exact. The reason he was banished to the Fox district was because, frankly, Jeff was tired of dealing with him.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows, interested in this turn in the conversation and willing to listen more. He put his elbows on his knees after putting the glass back on the white, sparkling marble table and joined his fingers as he sat forward. “That’s not what I heard.”

“I don’t know what you’ve heard but Jeff had been making plans to secure his business from Pellegrino’s greedy hands. Jeff loved Samantha. His only regret was the kid that she spawned from her elopement with that bastard. Jeff used to have high hopes for him when he was a kid, he seemed to have had lots of potential but somewhere along the way he became arrogant and wild.”

“I have several businesses that I’ve been protecting for years in Fox district. I don’t want to see them flounder or get destroyed just because the dog is finally off the leash. I had a good deal with Morgan and I respected him just as he respected me and my business but now … ” Jensen spread his arms wide and shrugged.

Misha opened up his mouth to say something but found it difficult to form the words so he just shook his head as he glanced up to Jared then to Jensen, letting out a long suffering sigh. Jensen signaled his point and middle finger above his left shoulder signaling to Jared who stood on guard behind him. Jared bent his head leveling his right ear with Jensen’s lips as his master whispered few of words to him. He nodded a couple of times before standing up, glancing briefly towards Misha and leaving the room to stand guard outside.

“He won’t go far but enough not to hear us, which is moot by the way since I’ll be telling him once we’re out of here,” said Jensen after the door to the guest room closed behind Jared.

“It’s your call and I’m not telling you who to trust. I just need to save the business and the family as best as I can.” Misha paused for several seconds before continuing in a quiet tone, “After killing Morgan, I’m sure he’ll get bolder in eliminating everyone he considers a threat.”

Misha sent a meaningful look Jensen’s way. Jensen pursed his lips deep in thought. Misha had confirmed his suspicion but he still needed to take a cautious step and tread carefully. Jensen tended to stay out of other people’s affairs if they did not concern him directly. More than a few of his business associates delved into illegal activities but he would contentedly look the other way as long as they didn’t interfere with his interests. They were valuable blackmail material after all. Morgan and he had had a deal in hot they run their business and they did not get involved in each other’s affairs. Disciplining Pellegrino was never his job to do as it was Morgan’s but now that the old man had been killed, presumably by Pellegrino himself, and if Misha was too weak to do something violent, Jensen thought it might be time for him to do something about it before the dog got overconfident.

“You’re a smart man, Misha. Don’t let him get the better of you. I’d like it better if I only have to deal with you in regards to our business agreement. I'm assuming it still stands, by the way?” asked Jensen as he got to his feet and re-buttoned his suit jacket.

“Yes, of course.” Misha stood as well and began to escort Jensen out of the guest room. “I like our agreement. It’s profitable and brings me less conflict. It’s good for business.”

“Great! Let’s keep it that way.”

“…and one more thing. Did you by any chance ever hear of a singer that goes by the name of Red Rose?”

“No, what of her?” Jensen turned to face Misha as they walked to the door.

“She mostly sings at this club on the border between Fox and Rose districts, I’m not really sure where it is, but Pellegrino used to frequent that place,” said Misha casually.

Jensen paused at that, looking at Misha in contemplation before tilting his head to the side digesting the information the other man had thrown at him, almost casually. “Hmm,” was Jensen’s only response.

Misha turned the door knob and held the door for Jensen as the mob boss went though. Jared was immediately by his side and they soon parted ways with only a nod to each other.

Jensen remained silent as he and Jared walked to their car. The funeral procession already started as ten black cars slowly drove through the gates to go to the public cemetery on the outskirts of town. Jensen and Jared entered their own car and went to a different direction. Their business with the Morgans was done for the day and they did not wish to get involved in other family’s affair.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)

A beautiful woman with long flowing blond hair quickly walked down the street as a black Cadillac stopped just a few feet in front of her. The back door opened and a tall man stepped out of the car leaving the door ajar as he waited beside it. The woman walked towards the car and stepped inside. The tall man closed the door after her and went around the front of the car to ride shotgun. The black car was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Blond hair today, darling?” asked Jensen from his seat beside the woman. His driver was circling the streets around the building  she had exited from.

“Just part of the job, sweetheart,” answered the blond woman saucily, twirling her blond hair around her fingers, winking at Jensen unabashedly. “I’m in the middle of something big. Finally, got in with the Senator. You wouldn’t believe the dirty little secrets he has hiding under his well tailored suits,” said the blond woman. “Now, what can I do for you, Jensen?”

“That’s what I love about you Traci. Got a passion unmatched by any man I know.”

“Stop the flattery, mister. It’ll get you nowhere fast,” said Traci giving Jensen a bored look.

“I need info-”

“That’s not new-”

“Shut up and listen woman,” Jensen snapped at her as his tone got serious. Traci only raised one of her eyebrows. She was used of Jensen’s attitude and waited for the Mob Boss to continue. “She’s supposed to be a singer in a small club somewhere in Fox district. Red Rose. Got anything on her?”

“A canary?” Traci raised her eyebrows wondering what Jensen could be up to. “Well, I’m not particularly interested in a lowly singer at an equally lowly joint but … I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s what I wanna hear. If you do your job well, you may be getting close to unveiling the man behind the murder of Jeff Morgan.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t you?” asked Traci in a mock seriousness.

“Get out of here.”

Traci smirked. “Your technique in seducing the fairer sex leaves nothing to be desired.”

“It’s a good thing that I’ve never been attracted to them, then.”

“It’s good to know that my failure to seduce you is not because I’ve lost my charm.” Traci sent another wink Jensen’s way and a taste of her seductive smile; the two weapons she most often used to garner her juicy news and politicians’ dirty secrets. She was one of the best reporters in Cantantonia, as well as a skilled grifter, and she was under the Ackles family protection. Symbiotic mutualism was what Jensen used to say about their working relationship. Jensen protected her and she delivered blackmail material on his rivals and enemies.

“Please stop at the corner, driver. I’ll get out there, thank you,” called out Traci before she leaned forward to breathe into Jared’s ear, “see you around, Jared.”

The car stopped just before the red lights and Traci stepped out, winking to Jared as she sauntered off, her hips swaying sexily, turning a few heads on the side street. Jared turned his head to look at Jensen exasperatedly while Jensen only smirked in amusement.

“Back to the house Angus,” Jensen commanded the driver.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00005tt7/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00005tt7/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00005tt7/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00005tt7/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00005tt7/) [](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00005tt7/)

**Jim Beaver’s bar, Fox District, An hour after midnight…**

 

Trembling fingers picked up the shot glass for the fourth time that night and the bartender spared him a pitying glance over his shoulder as he cleaned the bar table. The man coughed for few seconds after downing his drink.

“You okay there, sonny?” called out the bartender to his only costumer tonight.

The man coughed again a couple of times before answering with a nervous lilt to his voice.

“Fine, I’m fine. ‘Course I am… hehe… why wouldn’t I be? … just a… had a bad day, that’s all.”

The bartender eyed him suspiciously, though. The man did look miserable with his worn out and wrinkled clothes and pale complexion he did not want to imagine what had happened to the man that put him in such a state. He was done cleaning the tables and was going to move on to the glasses when the door to his bar opened and a couple of men in black suits entered.

“Oh no,” whimpers the miserable man who was looking paler as the men in black suits approached the bar.

The bartender smelt something rotten right away because there was no way these guys came in peace. He knew them alright. They were Pellegrino’s men.

“It’s a surprise to see you here Lester,” said one of the black suited men as he leaned almost casually on the bar right in front of the pale miserable man.

“You know the boss been lookin’ for you,” the other man in the black suit added. He draped an arm around Lester’s shoulders and shook him a couple of times. “We think it’ll be better if you come with us, now.”

“C...come with you guys? … W…where?”

“Stop asking questions if you know what’s good for you.”

The black suited men manhandled Lester off his bar stool and dragged his pitiful miserable behind out of the bar. The bartender would not even be surprised if he never saw Lester again or until his body turned up somewhere a few days later. He couldn’t say that he felt bad for the guy because truthfully he really didn’t.

“I don’t think you should worry about him anymore. Tell your boss he shouldn’t waste his breath on that scum,” said the bartender to the quiet bar where the clinking of the glasses that he was cleaning was his only answer. He picked up Lester’s shot glass and cleaned it too as he continued talking to the air, “are you gonna hide there all night?”

This time a movement in the dark corner disturbed the still quiet air around the bar. The shadow of a tall man moved away from the darkness of the corner into the middle of the bar where the yellowish light of the lamp hit his black fedora. He tipped his hat once to the bartender before sauntering off outside.

The bartender heaved a heavy sigh. This situation with Pellegrino was getting more and more disconcerting not to mention dangerous as the man was known for his cruelty and greediness. There used to be two respectful crime lords in the town, Morgan and Ackles. Both had signed a kind of peace treaty where they divided their territory so that they did not step on each other toes. Yes, a few conflicts arose now and then. Some people died, some went missing but it dwindled within a few days to nothing but a headline in a newspaper. But ever since Pellegrino had taken over Morgan’s half of the business things were getting murkier day by day. Pellegrino was a man without dignity and he was as greedy as he come. He intentionally shook things up with the Ackleses, stirring up troubles. It was clear that he wanted to own the city and Ackles was only in his way.

“That kid should take action soon before there’s a blood bath in this town,” muttered the worn out bartender. He should have closed his business hours ago since he had to open his diner in a few hours. Running two businesses at once was exhausting but he had nothing better to do than keep busy.


	3. Third Chapter

 

 

 

**Spring Club, Fox district near Rose District Border, Two hours to Midnight…**

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00007h8f/) _…    My funny valentine,_

_Sweet comic valentine,_

_You make me smile with my heart,_

_Your looks are laughable,_

_Unphotographable,_

_Yet, you’re my favorite work of art…_   _(My Funny Valentine by Frank Sinatra)_

_My Funny Valentine_ welcomed him as Jensen entered the club through its main double door. Traci had sent word this morning about a singer named Red Rose at the Spring Club on the border of Rose and Fox district. Her real name was Kim Rhodes and she was rumored to be Pellegrino’s mistress.  They would more likely find Pellegrino in there than anywhere else.

In the last five days, the commotion around Jensen’s businesses in Fox district had arisen from mere annoyance to downright provocation. Jensen’s business associates in the district had been complaining about the threat and disturbance caused Pellegrino’s men. He had also had the audacity to refuse Jensen’s invitation for a meeting and had provoked gun fights with Jensen’s men. Jensen had hoped to settle the dispute with cool heads and sensible discussion like any respected gentlemen but it turned out the man was more like a savage monkey than civilized citizen.

The club was not a big one. There were only eight round tables with four chairs each. Jensen made a beeline to the  empty table in the middle at the front. The other tables were occupied by a few men. It was a slow night, it seemed. One of his men pulled out the chair for him before he sat down, facing the stage. The singer stood on the raised platform that housed the musicians with her back directly in front of Jensen. She teased the patron with her melodious voice and smile as she occasionally turned her head back to give a wink or two over her shoulder. Her white sparkling dress was bare at the back showing her smooth skin and an intricately designed tattoo of a rose that almost covered her entire shoulder.

“Guess that’s why she’s called Red Rose,” muttered Jensen quietly.

After the first verse of her song, the singer turned back around facing her audience. She was pretty, Jensen gave her that. Her short black hair was gelled in elegant curls and adorned with pearl-like accessories matching her earrings and necklace. Her red lips offered seductive smiles and her smoky eyes commanded the entire room. Jensen could see why Pellegrino had fallen for her.

As Red Rose swayed her curvy body on stage, Jensen scanned the club. It was too small to be called a club, though. More like a bar with a live stage and slightly better food but only standard alcoholic beverages. The patrons seemed to be just a bunch of ordinary blue collar workers presumably from the nearby factory who sought alcohol to warm their bellies and a little bit of pleasure after a long and arduous day of work. They were chattering among themselves and making occasional catcalls to the sexy singer on stage.

A waitress approached Jensen’s table with a tray of whiskey and a shot glass but before she could get within ten feet of Jensen, a patron on a table behind Jensen stopped her in her tracks. There was a bit of a scuffle at that table before finally the waitress retreated to the back room with an empty tray. Jensen paid her no mind and settled himself to enjoy the last verse of the song.

Red Rose ended her song with an elegant bow, a round of applause and several catcalls dedicated to her. Jensen kind of felt disheartened when she stepped off the stage since he thought she really had a nice voice. Another song would not hurt. Yet, he was curiously surprised when she emerged from the back room and made a beeline towards his table. Many of the patrons called her name as she sauntered over swaying her hips but she had one fixed destination in her mind.

“Good evening Mr. Ackles,” greeted the lovely singer as she delicately took a seat right in front of Jensen.

Jensen chuckled. Why was it not surprising that she knew his name? “Good evening to you too, Miss…Rose? Or should I say, Miss. Kim Rhodes.”

Rose gave Jensen a teasing smirk. “I’m flattered that a big shot like you is willing to come to our humble establishment. May I treat you to our finest beverage?” asked Rose politely. “It may not hold to your standard but please accept our hospitality, on the behalf of the owner of this club.”

“Who would that be? If I may ask?”

“Mr. Speight,” answered Rose immediately. “Mr. Richard Speight, Jr.”

“Ah, I know Richard, fine man. Too bad he’s got caught up in the wrong crowd.”

Rose frowned confusedly as she shook her head a bit. “Excuse me?”

Jensen’s attention was pried away from her by a blond man in a dark blue suit strolling confidently towards him from the back room. Two other gentlemen were trailing behind him. “A wrong crowd like him,” Jensen said to Rose as his eyes never left the man.

Rose followed Jensen’s line of sight and her eyes visibly widened, her gestures were suddenly nervous. She hurriedly got off her chair and just as the man reached the table smiling cockily at Jensen. He promptly sat down on Rose’s chair making himself look as comfortable as possible while the lady singer timidly inched away from him as subtly as she could. Jensen noticed from his peripheral view that the other two gentlemen were busy ushering the other patrons out of the club. They grumbled and protested but soon left the premises without much of hassle. Jensen thought that these guys were well known around here.

“Stay! Why don’t you, Rose?” The man reached out his hand to grip Rose’s arms and manhandled her to the chair between them, all the while, his eyes kept trained on Jensen.

Jensen calmly let him have his show. This was his territory after all but Jensen was not easily intimidated as he had not come alone. Four men, including the one who sat behind Jensen, stood up from their table nearly at the same time as when the patrons were being ushered out. Two of them moved to stand behind Jensen and the other two flanked his chair.

“Four men, Ackles?” asked the man in indignation. “You bring four men with you while I only bring two?” He put his hand over his heart in a mock pained expression as his men assumed their places behind his chair.

Jensen spied the door to the back room just in time to see Jared come out of it walking purposefully towards him. He then signaled to the four men around him telling them to wait outside.

“Don’t worry. They won’t come in before I tell them to. I know your game, Pellegrino. I’ve had Jared secure the club from unwanted intruders while we’re discussing business. Your other men, wherever they are, have been incapacitated for the duration of our meeting,” explained Jensen as he welcomed Jared to his side with a small nod. Seeing the disgruntled look on Pellegrino’s face Jensen added, “you still have the upper hand here,” said Jensen with open arms. “You have two,” gesturing to the two men behind Pellegrino, “while I only have Jared.”

Pellegrino sent him nasty look over the table. Everyone who was well versed in this business knew that Jared was Jensen’s most trusted right hand man. Jared’s silence in public meant nothing and everything to Jensen’s enemies. He was a deadly killer and rumored to be very skilled with his hands. Anyone who ever bore witness to his skill was either dead or threatened beyond fright and knew better than to speak of him out loud.

“You’re a very difficult man to approach Pellegrino and yet you intentionally go out of your way to gain my attention. You have guts, I’ll give you that,” said Jensen leaning back comfortably on his chair.

“…and my guts hate yours.” Pellegrino leaned over the table starring Jensen down. “I don’t wanna deal, Ackles. It’s a pansy assed way of doing business. This is the new age. I get what I want and if you’re in my way then …” Pellegrino spread his arms and shrugged his shoulders. His face adopted a pitying look but his eyes danced annoyingly smug.

Jensen chuckled. “I have to confess that I haven’t put too much stock in your intelligence, if you even have any, I mean … coming up against me, it’s a …” Jensen trailed of, eyebrows taut in an attempt to find the correct word before his lips widened into a grin. “… dumb move. Bordering on moronic if I’m honest with you.” 

Jared noticed Pellegrino’s right hand was creeping into his lap and the two bodyguards beside him were getting tense as they sneaked glances at their boss. It was instinct that made Jared’s left hand creep behind Jensen to grip the back of his chair because the next second Pellegrino pulled a gun from under the table and shot at Jensen’s face.

The sound of the hammer hitting the firing pin that started the mini explosion of energy which discharged the bullet filled the otherwise quiet club. Jared’s instinct paid off when he yanked the back of Jensen’s chair down at the same time as the gun was cocked. He turned to protect Jensen’s body and head with his right arm as he followed his master down, squatting on the floor protecting the back of Jensen’s head from hitting the hard tiled floor with his palm. From his position on the ground he saw Pellegrino rose to his feet when he realized that his first shot had missed and he intended to finish it.

Jared reacted quickly, releasing Jensen immediately when he felt the chair hit the ground knowing that Jensen could defend himself now that he was out of immediate danger. Jared slammed the underside of the table up knocking Pellegrino’s hand off course, sending the second bullet up into the ceiling, and using the upturned table as cover. He knew from his peripheral vision that Jensen had rolled to his left favoring his injured right shoulder. So, he focused his attention to his right from where he knew one of Pellegrino’s bodyguards would undoubtedly come at him. He was prepared. Right hand snatched his throwing knife from his vest and left hand grabbed the guard’s gun arm pushing it up pointing at the ceiling as he rose from the floor planting his knife in the bodyguard’s chest.

Jensen had rolled to his left as the other bodyguard came at him. He pulled the screaming Rose down off her chair, wincing as he felt his stitches pulled by the woman’s weight. He kicked the chair towards the approaching man surprising him and halting his movement, giving Jared enough time to throw his second knife at him but not before the he had released a shot.

Jensen rolled back to his right side, this time with Rose in his arms shrieking  bloody murder deafening his eardrums. For a vocalist with a beautiful voice, her scream was horrible, more like the mad screech of a tortured bird.

The second bodyguard dropped down on the floor grappling at his bloodied neck where Jared’s knife protruded proudly leaking blood from the wound in choked gulps from his throat.

Pellegrino, regaining his balance, wildly pulled the trigger as he walked backwards towards the back door. Jensen was half concealed by the table and most of his bullets hit the table top. So, he aimed his shots towards Jared instead. Jared seized the first bodyguard’s fallen gun from the floor then stood up trading bullets with Pellegrino as the bandit half crouched behind the various musical instruments that lined the small stage. When Jared gave chase he fled through the back door.

“Jared!” Jensen called, halting his run. Jared hesitated for a moment, clearly wanted to chase Pellegrino but quickly realized that his responsibility to Jensen came first as he had to make sure that Jensen was alright.

“Take her!”

Jared ran back to where Jensen was struggling to get the still screaming Rose off him. He put down the gun at his side and lifted Rose off him. Then, he crouched over Jensen giving him a quick once over before helping him to sit up. He noticed that Jensen was favoring his right shoulder and went to check on it.

“It’s okay. Just got scraped,” said Jensen grasping Jared’s wrist. He sent a meaningful glare to his right hand man/lover while his attention kept being drawn to the darkening spot on Jensen’s suit jacket. “Let’s kick this joint before Pellegrino’s cronies get here.”

Jared reached under Jensen’s left arm helping him up as he tucked his right arm in front of his chest.

“Hey, you ‘aright?” asked Jensen with a nod of his chin to the now quiet Rose who was still sitting on the floor hiding her hand behind her.

Jensen stepped forward to help her but Jared touched his left shoulder to stop him just a second before the woman drew a gun on him. Luckily, Jared had a pair of long legs. He took a long stride towards her and kicked the gun from her hand just as she fired. The bullet hit a glass frame on the wall behind Jensen and the sound of the splintering glass on the floor drowned out the sound of Jared backhanding Rose. The woman slumped in a heap of white and gleaming red rose tattoo.

“Stupid broad,” muttered Jensen disdainfully.

After collecting the guns from the dead bodyguards, the mob boss and his right hand man hurriedly left the club through the long hallway towards the front door. Jensen noticed the two guards that had stripped him off his gun earlier, were absent and there were sounds of gunshots from outside.

Jared and Jensen hit the wall next to the open door, guns at the ready. Jared peeked outside seeing Jensen’s men exchanging bullets with unsavory people across the street.

“Angus!” called out Jared to their driver. “Jensen’s coming out.”

The bulky driver nodded his head before spitting two bullets towards the dumpster across the street where most of the unfriendly shots originated. He sent codes to the others and they stood at the same time stepping away from their hiding place raining bullets relentlessly towards the enemy giving time for Jensen and Jared to step out of the club and get to their car.

Jared went out first, emptying the bullet chamber of his gun as Jensen followed him with his own stolen gun clutched in his left hand. They ran to their parked car with Angus behind the wheel firing up the engine. The rest of Jensen’s men who sneaked inside the club before Jensen also ran to their car dragging their injured with them. They traded several more bullets with the oncoming enemy as they sped away leaving Fox district.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)

 

**Downtown Cantantonia, The Tribune Herald’s office…**

 

The city was buzzing with news of its newest scandal. The well respected businessman, Jensen Ackles, had been seen in a hotel room, in a compromising position with none other than his own right hand man. One of the hotel’s maids caught them in the act and told her colleagues. By the time Mr. Ackles managed to corner the poor soul and tried to threaten her, it had been too late as the story had already reached the news office. The scandal evoked scorn and contempt from respectable society at large as Mr. Ackles was known to be involved in various philanthropic projects and responsible for several charity functions in the city.

The citizens, especially mothers, were worried about the sincerity of his intent and if his twisted behavior would affect the younger generation. Many of his business associates refused to be interviewed about their affiliation with Mr. Ackles and his businesses as they were afraid the slander would surely follow them. This was especially true for those swimming in political waters, this close to the election. The interview with Mr. Pellegrino, nephew of the late businessman, Mr. Morgan stated that he was disgusted but not surprised with Mr. Ackles sinful way of life and wondering if his uncle had ever suspected the same.

_“That man is too pristine to be true but I always suspected that he was up to no good,” said the upstart businessman Mr. Pellegrino. “What makes me sick is the way he uses charity and morality as a disguise to hide his sick and twisted lust behind. It’s bordering on satanic, I’m telling you.”_

“Would you listen to this man?” said Traci outraged. She had just arrived in her office holding the latest copy Tribune Herald in her hand. Her photographer, a curly haired young man in his mid twenties with a wiry frame, Jerry Cossack, shrugged his wide shoulders at her while he cleaned a lens. “This guy is so full of horse shit that it makes me puke!” Traci threw the newest edition of the paper on her cluttered desk, hands on her hips, fuming.

“Who interviewed him, anyway?” asked Jerry who was sitting on a chair in front of Traci’s desk, shifting the 1946 heavy duty Ensign, Ful Vue box camera on his lap adjusting the viewfinder on its side as he peeked from the top window.

“Wanek,” Traci snorted. “I bet he made it up. How many times a year does he make the front page?”

“Not once.”

“He’s desperate. This story’s ridiculous,” mocked Traci.

“How so?” Jerry frowned, putting down his heavy camera on Traci’s desk. “It’s a good scandal. I mean … terrible … obviously but … good enough scandal to make the front page.”

Traci let out a big sigh throwing herself into her chair. “Guess so…” Her stomach was churning when she thought about how Jensen would react regarding this news. She sincerely hoped that he would not get back from his business trip out of the country to read the news before she could inform him of it.

Jerry picked up the newspaper and scanned the scandalous front page news. “You know, the writing style clearly leaves nothing to be desired. I’m sure you can write better than this.”

“Thank you, Jerry. You can suck up to me all you want but other than my vote of good workmanship, I’m not the one who can promote you,” teased Traci with a smirk.

Jerry chuckled shaking his point finger at his colleague knowing that she was teasing him. “What I’m wondering is if this news is as booshwash and ridiculous as you say, then wouldn’t Benedict have canned it before it reached the printing department?”

“Speaking like a true hound,” praised Traci making the young cameraman blush. “Keep it up, boy. You’ll get far in this business. Now, would you like to share your thoughts?”

“Well, you see…” Jerry  leaned over Traci’s desk with an excited glint in his blue eyes, eager to impress the pretty journalist.

 

 

  
[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/000068cq/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/000068cq/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/000068cq/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/000068cq/)

**Ackles Residence, Rose District, Midnight…**

 

A black 1941 Cadillac 60 rolled into the driveway of the big house and stopped right in front of its terrace door. The driver came out and hurriedly opened the back door to let his boss out. Jensen Ackles stepped out of his car dressed smartly in a all-black suit with a pair of shiny black shoes, a black fedora and a long black wool coat completing his ensemble. He spared no mind to the driver as he strolled up the steps and into the house. A young man in his middle twenties who served as the Ackles housekeeper approached him immediately.

“Is Jared home yet?” asked Jensen in his trademark deep rumbling voice. He started to loosen the buttons of his coat as he walked further into the hallway. The young man followed him.

“Yes sir,” answered Jake.

“So what’s so important that you had to send for me ahead of schedule?  I was in the middle of an important business deal. I had to send Jared ahead of me to take care of it.”

“I’m so sorry, sir. I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t dire.” Jake handed him a newspaper dated  the day before.

“What’s this?” Jensen, who was now free of his coat, frowned in curiosity as he took the newspaper in his left hand as he stretched out his right arm giving his coat to Jake. “If anyone calls, tell them I’m not available until further notice. If it’s Traci, tell her I’ll contact her and to not worry. I’m prepared to hear her side of the story.”

“Yes, sir!” said the young man with a nod as he accepted the black fedora from his boss. He quickly turned away to do his bidding when his boss called again.

“Oh and Jake?” called the boss, “don’t let anyone disturb me while I’m in my room.”

“Of course, sir.” A smile slowly spread on the young man’s face. Jensen opened his bedroom door with a lopsided smirk adorning his lips.

After he closed the door behind him, he continued into the room, opening the buttons on his cuffs, which was followed by the shedding his jacket and tie, throwing them haphazardly on the chair in the corner of the room. He sauntered to the mini bar to pour himself a small glass of bourbon.

He sipped the drink slowly and closed his eyes as he felt the alcohol run down his throat leaving a warm trail in its path. Large hands circled his stomach from behind and rubbed his chest lovingly before peeling off the loose white shirt from his shoulders. Warm lips planted small kisses along his freckled shoulders and neck. Then, trailing wet tongued caresses down his spine from his nape to the small of his back. Jensen put his glass back on top of the marble bar and let the mysterious hands free his shirt from his wrists, the hands working skilfully, careful of his stitches.

Jensen turned around to lean his naked back against the cold marble bar exposing his sculpted abs under the intense glare of the crystal ceiling light. He stood still with his eyes closed, the glass of bourbon dangling between his fingers. The large hands skilfully divested him of his pants, flicking open the button and pulling down the zipper, then his boxers, socks and shoes followed in record time until he stood naked with all his dangly bit in the air. The tantalizingly warm lips were back, trailing kisses from the inside of his thighs to his belly button, purposely avoiding his cock, where the hot wet tongue delved inside eliciting a moan from him.

“Ooh… did you find the hound?” Jensen seemed to throw the question to the ceiling as his left hand found purchase and gripped the back of the head whose owners of hot wet lips were now latched onto his belly button.

“Uh huh,” answered the nameless seducer.

“And…”

The seducer paused for few seconds from his naughty ministrations to answer the question properly.

“I think it was my fault.”

Jensen looked down upon hearing the subdued tone of his sub. Jared sat on his feet between Jensen’s spread legs with his head down and hands folded on his lap twitching nervously. Jensen reached for Jared’s chin to tilt his face up and his heart melted when he was hit with the guiltiest puppy dog eyes that he had ever seen.

“Tell me.”

With that firm command, Jared spilled his worry that he might have made a mistake when he decided to let Lester go the other night. He was sure that Lester’s fate was sealed at that moment and he was right. Lester’s bloated body was found in the river the day before they had visited the Spring Club. Yet, in lieu of recent developments, Jared could not help but wonder if he made the right decision that night at Jim’s bar.

“I don’t think Lester knew anything, do you?” said Jensen dissuading Jared’s worry. “He was the one who let the assassin in when he came to see me that day, petitioning for his case and begging me to bail him out of trouble with the Fox district authority. He had hidden the assassin in his car dressed as a bouncer. Then, he substituted him with his own bouncer letting the assassin stay hidden among our shrubbery pretending to be one of our guards. It was an elaborate and tricky plan that one like Lester would be hard pressed to think of. He never spent long in the house before I sent him to maintain the brewery in Fox district. The only ones who know about us are Jake and our two maids.”

“Think one of them sang to the news hound?” wondered Jared. “Perhaps Pellegrino bled them out?”

“Hmmm…” Jensen threaded his fingers through Jared’s brown locks as he was lost in thought. “What’s the hound said?”

Seeing as his master was not mad at him, Jared placed his cheek on Jensen’s inner thigh and proceeded to tell him what he had done before Jensen had arrived home. “It was Wanek. I introduced him to a few of my knives and he spilled. Pellegrino paid him to write the story and he went straight to Benedict and apparently it was approved. The guy’s not very well versed in mob business, although he spent some times being a news hound. I took care of Wanek afterwards. Not sure with Benedict, though”

“Benedict…” Jensen shook his head. “Couldn’t find a speck of dirt on his forehead. Perhaps it’s time we put one on him.”

“I get the feeling that he’s working for someone.”

“Yeah, but even Morgan didn’t own him. I wonder …” Jensen felt a strange feeling crept up on him like a half formed thought but he shook it off and concentrated on Jared instead. “I’ve missed you.” Jensen’s knuckles trailed over Jared’s left cheek and temple. “Been four days. It’s a bit of a stretch for us, don’t you think?”

“Yes master,” Jared said with a shy smile on his lips.

Jensen tipped his head back and swallowed the rest of his bourbon in one gulp before depositing the glass with a clatter on the marble top of the mini bar. He walked the three steps to his bed and sat on the edge beckoning Jared to him. The sub crawled slowly in between his legs continuing his previous ministrations, this time going straight to the precious jewel. Jensen laid back on the bed allowing his sub pleasure him. His left hand went under one of the pillows to retrieve Jared’s throwing knife. He slipped the knife under Jared’s chin, putting the sharp point to his neck. He knew it aroused Jared to be threatened by his own knife. He put a bit of pressure on the knife, without drawing blood, he pulled Jared up.

Jared’s pupils were blown wide and he was panting hard. Jensen pulled him down to devour his lips with the knife still planted at his throat. They were always careful. If Jared was a skilled knife thrower then Jensen was an even more skilled at knife play.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/000068cq/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/000068cq/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/000068cq/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/000068cq/)

 

**Downtown Cantantonia, That same night…**

 

Traci Dinwiddie had just spent the last three hours slaving over her latest breaking news story. She had put the finishing touches to her piece that would be printed as tomorrow’s front page headline. It was big news and she was hoping that it would drown out the scandal about Jensen and bury it where it could not breathe again. She had been having trouble explaining to Jared and she was not sure that Jensen still trusted her. She hoped that he did as it was a very dangerous thing to be on the wrong side of a mob boss. She thought there was another player in town, but she wasn’t sure who they were. She still needed to crack it.

Jake had told her that Jensen was willing to listen to her story and that he would contact her soon. She was glad because if she knew Jensen at all, he was a man of his word. If he wanted to kill her, she would be dead by now. She peaked through her kitchen window seeing a man stepped out of her car and walked to her kitchen door. He was her own personal bodyguard sent by Jensen to protect her as well as watch her. He was a double edge sword, just to remind Traci of who she was dealing with.

Traci took a bottle of whiskey from the upper cabinet in her kitchen and was in the middle of pouring the content into a shot glass when a gloved hand was placed over her mouth. Her muffled scream strengthened the hold on her and soon she was choking for air. The noise of the breaking whiskey bottle and shot glass sounded loud in the silence of her kitchen. After few seconds of struggling she succeeded in freeing her arms from the intruder’s hold and flailed wildly around. The intruder dragged her backwards out of the kitchen into the dining room.  She managed to grab the edge of her table cloth sending everything on top of the dining table clattering to the tiled floor. The racket invited her guard inside the house just in time to witness her last struggle for life.


	4. Fourth Chapter

 

 

 

Ackles Residence, Mid Morning…

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00009azw/)    Jake hurriedly entered the dining room with an envelope clutched in his hand. He found that his boss had been up and about and now was having a late breakfast with his right hand man.

“It’s bad, sir!” Jake exclaimed.

“Mind your manners, Jake. I’m still eating,” chastised Jensen halfheartedly. The Mob Boss was currently sitting at the head of the table over a plate of pancakes and eggs. Jared sat on his right eating a larger plate of breakfast. “What’s so dire that makes you barging in here?”

“Sorry, sir. But, just in one night, our brewery in the Fox district was burned down. Many have been killed and injured. Also, three of our bars and clubs were raided by the coppers. All of them in the Rose district,” reported Jake over breakfast.

Jensen froze mid chew, “what’s the Chief said?”

“That someone pulled some strings at head office. He kept saying that they pulled rank on him but he promised that he would take care of it. Nothing else would get passed his office and he promised to cover it for us.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“Jim’s bar was also ransacked and burned last night as well but he was lucky that the coppers had arrested him when they raided it two hours earlier, or else he’d be dead.”

“And?” Jensen coaxed. He knew that Jake had trailed off, perhaps hesitating in telling him the last and possibly worst news.

“Traci was found in her house early this morning by her maid. She and the guard that we sent to protect her were dead.”

Jensen balled his fist and gritted his teeth in anger. Someone had decided to pull out the big guns and was intent on playing war games with him. This was more than a mere scuffle between his family and another gangster. A big player had shown their cards. It was time he showed them his.

“Thank you, Jake. Take care of the families of the injured and killed workers. They are all our family and fall under our protection. Leave the rest to me. I trust that we have no problem with Rose district police department?”

“No Sir. It’s being handled as we speak. Oh! And this,” Jake handed over the envelope to Jensen. “I almost forget. Someone sent this for you.”

Jensen frowned as he took the envelope from his housekeeper. After wiping his hands on the napkin, he tear it open and let the content fell into his hand. It was a copy of birth record with the name of Kim Rhodes issued by the Coral District General Hospital. Jensen glanced over the rest of the information until he came to the name of the mother and father.

“Who sent this?”

“Uh, a scrawny guy with a bird nest of a hair came this morning,” said Jake with a shrug.

“Jake, I hope you didn’t let him out of this house.”

“Oh, no! He’s waiting in the study as we speak. He refused to leave the house before meeting you.”

“Good! I’ll be with him shortly. Now leave us.”

Jake left the dining room to carry out his tasks leaving Jensen to confer with his right hand man.

“Jensen…” Jared started with a subdued tone of voice.

“It’s getting way out of hand.” Jensen folded the record paper and put it back inside its envelope before leaning away from the table and snatching the napkin. He wiped his mouth and gulped down his soursop juice in one go before crossing his left leg  over his right knee, putting his right elbow on the arm of his chair, leaning closer to Jared and addressing  him in a serious tone. “I’ll leave Pellegrino to you. I won’t have him as a thorn in my side any longer. Do what you think necessary with the rest of his gang.”

“Of course,” answered Jared with a nod. “What’re you gonna do?”

Jensen sat straighter and pointed at Jared’s still half full plate. “Finish up! I have some arrangements to make with Jake. It’s time to teach them not to shake the hornets’ nest.” Jensen stood up buttoning his dark green suit jacket before leaning over to give Jared a kiss on his wide forehead. “Meet me in the study after you’ve emptied your plate,” Jensen said in a soft voice, rubbing his knuckles on Jared’s left cheek. They shared a brief smile then Jensen grasped Jared’s chin between his right thumb and fore finger, tilted his face up and leaned closer giving his sub a slow kiss on his wet lips.

“Hmm…” Jensen licked his lips tasting blueberry syrup. “Nice. I’ll have to try this next time.”

“It’s one of our new imported goods,” said Jared with a pleased smile. “Our office in the Coral District sent them for us to sample three days ago. I showed them to you the other day when they arrived, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah…Good stuff. I’m sure it won’t be hard to find market for them.” Jensen squeezed Jared’s shoulder and tapped it twice before leaving the dining room to go to his study.

 [](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)[](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)[](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)[](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)[](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)[](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)

Jensen burst through his study few minutes later heading straight to his desk to put the letter on it before turning around facing the new guest. Jake was sitting on one of the two chairs in front of the work desk while the other chair was occupied by a young man with curly brown hair who was now twisting around on his seat to look at Jensen. Jake had turned his chair facing him and had been interviewing him before Jensen entered.

The mob boss stood in front on the young man leaning his back to his desk, folding his hands over his chest. “So, who’re you?”

“Uh … um Mr. Ackles?” The young man was fidgeting nervously under Jensen’s intense stare. “My name’s Jerry Cossack. I’m a photographer for Tribune Herald… uh … Traci’s colleague.”

When Jerry trailed off, Jensen raised his eyebrow impatiently making the poor man more nervous than he already was. Jerry chanced a look at Jake before continuing his tale. “See, I…I went to the office early this morning because me and Traci already have an appointment with Mr. Johnson. He’s running for election this yea-”

“Cut to the chase Jerry,” warned Jake as he noticed Jensen was getting more impatient.

“Alright,  … okay …” Jerry chuckled for a moment. “Traci told me yesterday that she was waiting for an important letter from Coral District General Hospital and that it’d be labelled Top Secret. She personally asked me if I found the letter on her desk and she if she wasn’t there to receive it, she told me to deliver it to you, personally.”

Now, Jensen raised both eyebrows in surprised as he exchanged a look with Jake. His housekeeper shifted on his seat, leaning forward before asking, “did Traci, by any chance, told you about the content of the letter or did she told you why she felt that she wouldn’t be able to receive the letter herself?”

Jerry looked alarmed. “I … I don’t …” He took a deep breath before continuing, “We were supposed to meet in the office early morning, right? But Traci was late and we’re pressed for time for a meeting with an important person, so I thought, I’ll just swing by her house to give her the letter and we could go together. But …” Jerry’s feature crumpled in sadness as he looked down at his lap.

“…but when you got to her house, she was already dead,” Jake finished it for him.

“I was shocked,” admitted Jerry. “Coppers were swarming her house and her maid was crying. They questioned me for a while there before I managed to slip out. That was when I remember the letter. Look, Mr. Ackles,” said Jerry looking at Jensen with a sincere expression on his face, “I’m sure that Traci was murdered and I’m also sure that whatever was in that letter tied to it.”

“How d’you make of it?” inquired Jensen.

“Just yesterday, …” then the young cameraman lowered his voice as he looked at Jensen and Jake in turn, “we were talking about your story and how it got published despite Traci’s adamant that it was all boshwash. I told Traci about my suspicious on Benedict and she in turn told me about Mark Pellegrino and his involvement in the murder of Morgan. I know that you’re a Mob Boss, Mr. Ackles, and that this matter runs much deeper. Now, that Traci’s dead I’m afraid…”

“You don’t need to worry, Jerry.” Jensen moved to walk around his desk and sit on his chair, crossing his legs and putting his elbow on the armrest, propping his jaw on his fingers. “Jake’ll take care of it. You’ll be safe as long as you don’t sell me out. You’ll be dead before you even think of it,” threatened Jensen seriously.  

“I … I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Ackles.” Jerry shook his head adamantly, a mix of relieve and hopeful graced his features.

Jensen nodded at Jake and the younger man rose from his seat to escort Jerry outside. The cameraman’s eyes followed the housekeeper's movement before realizing that he was being dismissed, and then hurrying after him. Jensen quietly sat in contemplation when the door to his office was opened by Jared five minutes later. He relayed his conversation with the young cameraman, Jerry, to his right hand man as he took a seat in front of Jensen’s desk.

“What that letter tells you, then?”

“It tells me that perhaps we’re not dealing with one enemy here and I think I know who it is,” answered Jensen as he was tapping his finger on the top of the desk beside the letter.

Jake returned at that moment. After closing the door, he walked to Jensen’s desk and reclaimed his seat, turning it around to face Jensen. “I’ve told one of the men to shadow him and we’ll be updated in the next twelve hours.”

“Good! Put a ‘wait and see’ status on him. We can’t have another rat among us. Just because he brought us good enough information, doesn’t mean that we can trust him,” said Jensen and both of Jared and Jake agreed with him. “Now, I think we need to settle this matter in a one big swoop and at the same time.”

Jensen leaned in closer, putting his elbows on his desk and folding his hands above the aforementioned letter, fingers threaded. “We’ve been played, gentlemen. No one played me and lived long enough to even breathe a word about it,” promised Jensen in a cold and hard voice as he levelled both men with his cold and calculated stare.

 

 **Benedict’s House, Director/Chief Editor’s Home Office, Downtown Cantantonia…**

 

Jake Abel was a patient young man. It was an important quality when you were working for a Mob Boss like Jensen Ackles. Everybody said that he was too young to be involved in the life. By everybody, he meant the bodyguards around the Ackles Residence but what did they know anyway? For all that Jake knew he had been in the family for as long as he could remember. The only other person who was in the family for longer than Jake and not of blood relation to the Ackles was Jared but that was because he had age advantage on him. He knew that Jared was an orphan when the ten year old Jensen Ackles found him cast ashore on the beach in the Coral District. He’d been disorientated and could not speak English at all, and could not remember anything except his first name. At least Jake could remember his mother.

Jake’s mother had come to the Ackles Residence as a maid, when they were still living in the Coral District,. She was young and naïve, vulnerable to those with bad intentions. She had got involved with an irresponsible man who had left her alone with a baby boy. Fortunately, Lady Ackles, Jensen’s mother, had taken her under her wing and allowed her to raise Jake in the house. His absent father had once come to claim him when he was eight but he had never seen nor heard from him since. He did not know what Mr. Ackles Sr. had done to his father, not that he cared, and he thought that he was probably dead now anyway. So, no, there was no question about loyalty for Jake.

When Mr. Ackles Sr. passed away, Jensen became the head of the family. Even at twenty five, Jensen Ackles was scarier than his father. He was smart, cunning and very intelligent. He knew how to fight and to defend himself so Jared’s presence was more that of a companion than a real bodyguard. He always said that Jared was his shadow and he was right. Jared lived and breathed for him. Jared’s loyalty was not for the Ackles family but for Jensen. Everything and everyone else could waste away and he would not bat an eye. It was not until his seventeenth birthday that Jake understood the nature of their relationship. Strangely, he was not disgusted by it one bit. It was unusual, Jake would admit, even bordering on sinful perhaps but he was already so numbed by the violence and tension of mob life that a mere act of sexual intercourse between two men  paled in comparison to the harshness of mob business where they gambled life on a deck of cards.

Yes, Jake Abel was young but that did not mean he could not carry out his task to a T and bring approval to the family. So, here he was waiting in the study of the house belonging to the Herald Tribune’s director and chief editor Rob Benedict, waiting for him to come home from his office. Within ten minutes, he was sat behind the desk when he heard a shuffle outside the door a second before it was flung wide open by none other than Rob Benedict, his target. The man jumped a couple of steps backwards in surprise when he saw Jake sitting there lazily.

“What the … wh…who are you?!” Benedict shouted in shock.

Jake smiled wickedly. “Good evening Mr. Benedict. It’s so good to see you. We need to talk.”

 

**Somewhere in Fox District,…**

 

Three fire trucks, with sirens screaming, sped along the main street of the Fox district chasing the black smoke that was billowing out of a two storey night club at the corner of the street. It was late and busy in the club when the kitchen exploded. From his hiding place under the winding stairs of the second floor, Jared watched the patrons of the night club scramble in chaos fighting their way outside to save themselves. His men had herded the cooks and waitresses out of the kitchen two minutes before it exploded in a ball of orange flame.

After the incident at the Spring Club, Pellegrino had dragged his mistress away and secured her and himself at another night club in the district. From the spies that Jensen had spread around the district after that night, he  had learnt that the gangster had been holed up in this night club for the past week.

“Hurry, get Mark out of here! The whole club is on fire!” one of Pellegrino’s bouncers yelled at his pal as the other man sprinted across the club, weaving between the throngs of panicking patrons, to get to the stairs. Jared intercepted him at the bottom of the stairs with a knife to his throat. Almost at the same time he drew his gun from the inside of his jacket and shot the other bouncer across the club floor. Another bouncer had burst in from the lobby and he too was killed by Jared’s bullets. He let the bouncer in his arms slide to the floor with his throat sliced open. Nobody cared about the dead men among the chaos and confusion inside the club. That was exactly what he had aimed for.

Jared waited patiently until all of the patrons had left the building before ascending the stairs to the apartment above. He knew that the rest of his men were busy throwing Molotov cocktails to spread the fire inside the night club. He only had few minutes to spare before the whole building would be engulfed. Jared stopped in front of a locked door. He noticed that the lock had been busted making it impossible to open from the inside. He could hear the commotion inside the apartment and he was sure that half of it had probably been licked by the red devil already because Jensen’s men had been told to burn the building down and trap Pellegrino and his mistress inside their own apartment and they were nothing if not thorough.

Putting on his mask, Jared kicked the door open before stepping back to let the smoke and heat out. Once the smoke diminished, he strode in to find two people bending over on the floor coughing their lungs out. He kicked the dirty blond man until he was sprawled on the floor identifying him as Mark Pellegrino. The man struggled under his foot for few seconds before Jared ended him with a bullet in the middle of his forehead. Then he switched his attention to a crouching woman near the bed. She was gasping on the floor with tears drenching her cheeks. Jared quickly hauled her up with an arm around her slim waist and dragged her outside the room. As he descended the stairs, he motioned for the rest of his men to go upstairs.

Jared took off his mask and ordered, “I want this building be nothing but a pile of ash before morning.” And his men sprang to do his bidding as he hefted the limp woman under his arm.

 

**Back at Benedict’s House...**

Rob Benedict squirmed on his chair opposite Jake. He looked to his left and right nervously as two bouncers stood ramrod straight at his sides.

“I’m not sure I follow you. What is it that you want to talk about?”

“Mr. Benedict I’m here on the behalf of Jensen Ackles. Remember the front page you ran the other day?” Jake picked up a letter opener, a sharp silver object, from the immaculate desk and played with it for a while before pointing out the sharp end of the object to Benedict.

“W…what about it?” asked Benedict slowly, getting wary of the sharp object that was being pointed at him.

“He doesn’t like it,” answered Jake. His right hand twirled the letter opener on the desk as he crossed his legs and leaned back on one of the chair’s arms looking at Benedict out of the corner of his eyes. “The way you wrote about him in that headline was an insult to his personal life. Not that any of that should become you concern, which makes me wonder… How long have you been in the newspaper business Mr. Benedict? Long enough I guess? I’m sure you’re aware of the delicacy of mob business. You shouldn’t mess with the family if you know what’s good for you.”

“I …I …I don’t know what you’re talking about Mr. Abel. What’s it? F..family? Who’s family …”

Benedict gasped and jumped in fright when Jake suddenly stabbed the letter opener vertically into the desk. Then, he leaned in, folding his hands on the table, looking at Benedict directly in the eyes as he said, “Who owns you? Is it the Morgans? Because Jeff Morgan’s dead. Did someone in his family tell you to run the news about Jensen?”

Benedict was getting more agitated as Jake threw questions at him. His tense laughter sounded awkward to Jake. “It’s legitimate news. I’m a man of equal opportunity and fairness. The story had merit. Why wouldn’t I print it?”

“I stopped by the Lake Forest Academy yesterday and brought someone back with me. Would you like to meet her?”

“What?” whispered Benedict as his face turned as white as sheet. Panic was clear in his eyes and Jake revelled in the fact that he had finally got through to his target. Jake signalled one of the men standing beside Benedict to fetch her. The man nodded and left the room. He returned the next minute with another man and a brunette girl in tow. As soon as they entered the study, the girl launched herself at Benedict.

“Daddy!”

Benedict quickly stood up and hugged his fifteen year old daughter tightly in his arms as the frightened girl recounted what had happened to her in the last twelve hours.

Two days before, after the attacks on the Ackles businesses and Jensen’s personal life, he’d sent Jake to do some reconnaissance work around the boarding school. Jensen believed that someone had already bought Benedict’s loyalty by threatening the life of someone who was dear to him. After a little bit of digging it was not hard to find out that Rob Benedict had an only daughter who was studying at a boarding school in Chicago. Then it only took a little bit of skill in deceit and a scam to whisk Miss Benedict away from her school.

“She’s not harmed, if that’s your concern, but we can’t guarantee her safety if she stays at her old school.  I’m sure your former boss won’t be pleased when he finds out you work for us now.” Jake leaned back in his chair watching the reunion of father and daughter with a satisfied smile on his face. “You are concerned, aren’t you, Mr. Benedict?”

Benedict implored Jake. “Please, I sent her there to get her away from him.” All façade stripped away now his daughter’s life was in danger.

“I know. We had to kill two people to get her here.” Jake pulled himself to his feet, taking out a brochure from his inside pocket and giving it to Benedict. “We will relocate her to a more conducive environment. The headmaster of this school,” Jake indicated the brochure in Benedict’s hand, “is an Ackles family friend and he will guarantee your daughter’s safety. Plus, we will monitor her twenty four seven and facilitate communication as often as you like.”

Benedict was eyeing the brochure in his hand and weighing his options. Well, actually there was no option. He felt like he had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. He just needed to adjust if he wanted to keep himself and his daughter alive.

Jake put her palms flat on the desk and leaned over it again to peer into Benedict’s eyes. “Now, do I have your cooperation, Mr. Benedict?”


	5. Fifth Chapter

 

 

**Winchester Hall, Opera House, Downtown Cantantonia, the next night...**

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/0000b73g/)   A black Plymouth Deluxe stopped in front of the wide front porch of the Winchester Opera House at seven thirty exactly. A man in a grey suit stepped out of the front passenger seat to open the back door letting a sharply dressed man out of his vehicle. Misha Collins quickly entered the ornate front doors of the Opera House, into the lobby. His bodyguard followed closely behind him. There was only one man, in his late forties, dressed in a black tuxedo, standing in wait beside a golden door. The man bowed low as Misha approached him.

“Good evening, sir! Welcome to the Winchester Hall.”

“Good evening.” Misha smiled politely. “I have an invitation from Mr. Ackles for tonight’s performance.” Misha’s bodyguard handed over the invitation.

“Ah yes! Excellent, sir!” The host’s expression was triumphant as if he held a winning lottery ticket in his hand. “Please enjoy our show tonight!” The host held the golden door open to let Misha and his bodyguard through but Misha hesitated.

“Has Mr. Ackles arrived, yet?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen Mr. Ackles yet tonight, sir. But the performance won’t start for another fifteen minutes so there’s still plenty of time to freshen up. I will make sure to inform you personally when Mr. Ackles arrives.”

“Thank you.”

Misha cleared the threshold with his bodyguard in tow and strolled down a narrow walkway covered floor to ceiling in blue carpet. Up ahead, there was an intersection where the long corridor branched in three directions. Each of the doorways was adorned with thick red and gold frilled curtains. There were also two huge posters on wooden stands to the left and right of the doorways depicting the ongoing show of the week. In front of each poster, there were two hosts waiting for them, they were younger, in their mid twenties. The one on the left was talking to a middle aged man and woman, before he guided them to the corridor on the left, presumably showing them to their private box above the stage.

The remaining host on the right beamed widely as Misha approached him.

“Misha Collins as invited by Mr. Jensen Ackles.”

“Yes, Mr. Collins. Let me take you to your private box.”

The host then guided them to their seats through the same route  as the couple.. At every twenty paces along the corridor, there were doors covered by gold curtains and hosts were to be seen going in and out of some of them tending to the other guests. After passing at least six  hosts and ten golden doorway, their host stopped in front of the eleventh door to open its handle. Misha noticed that the door next to it was opened and out came the host who had led the couple before them.

“Please enjoy the show,” said the other host before closing the door walked passed them to return to his post at the intersection. 

“Welcome to the Winchester Hall, sir.” As his attention was occupied by the other host, Misha’s host had already opened the door ahead of them and invited them in.

Inside the small room, there were two ornate golden high backed chairs facing an open balcony overlooking the stage. They could see the stage and the non-VIP audience seated below in front of the stage. There was a pair of thick red curtains on  either side of the box that could be drawn if the occupants wished for privacy. A small round table stood between the two chairs and a couple of pairs of ornate binoculars lay on it.

Misha took the chair on the left leaving his bodyguard stood next to the door as their host explained that night’s opera. The young host gave Misha a programme containing all the information about the show. “…and you can pull this thick rope if you wish for my assistance. I’ll be just outside,” said the man as he gestured to the gold coloured thick rope with a big knot at the end that hung from the ceiling.

“Thank you, young man. Would you kindly inform me if Mr. Ackles has arrived?”

“Certainly sir!” he assured  him with another beaming smile. “If there’s nothing more then I’ll leave you to it. Please enjoy the show.” With those parting words he retreated outside and closed the door. Misha’s bodyguard followed him to stand guard outside the door.

Misha was in the middle of studying the programme when his bodyguard informed him that Jensen had arrived.

“Sir, the host just told me that Jensen Ackles has arrived. He’s in the lobby as we speak,” reported the guard.

“Yes, thank you Bern,” Misha said looking up. His guard nodded once before returning to his place. He pulled out his pocket watch and noticed that they had five minutes before the opera started.

Jensen strode purposefully along the blue carpeted corridor with Jared shadowing him on his right. He stopped briefly at the intersection when the same host who had attended to Misha greeted him and led him to his waiting business associates. Jared stayed behind at the intersection talking to the other guest attendant.

The host led Jensen down the same walkway to where Jensen could see there was a man standing in front of one of the doors. He went through the same introduction as he had with Misha, explaining the virtues of their facility and the opera. Then, Jensen sat down beside Misha after he was handed his programme.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything?” asked the host in a very accommodating tone of voice.

“No, thank you,” Jensen answered first before turning to his business associate. “Misha?”

“No. That’ll be all. Thank you.”

“Very good, please enjoy the show.” The overly polite host beamed one more time and with a little bow he closed the golden door behind him.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)

“So, what’s so important about tonight’s show that you’ve invited me to enjoy the evening here? I thought we were going to have a meeting at the usual restaurant, the Executive?” Misha asked as the music wafted from the orchestra pit below. They were playing Tchaikovsky’s 1812 overture, signalling the beginning of the performance.

“I’m feeling nostalgic. My father used to take me to an opera house just like this when his favourites were on. This was one of his particular favourites and I wouldn’t miss it,” answered Jensen as he made himself comfortable while opening the first few pages of his programme, recognizing some of the names of his favourite actors.

“I must admit. I’m not that interested in oprea but I do enjoy it once in a while. Jeff loved it, though.” Misha crossed his legs, leaning over to talk to Jensen.

“Yes,” Jensen chuckled. “We almost always held out meetings in a box like this. That was the one thing we had in common.” Jensen noticed the difference  in the tone of the music and  started watching the performance. “Ah, one of my favourites. She’s a very talented soloist. Her voice is divine.”

A woman was on stage singing a rather difficult song with seemingly minimal effort, even maintaining a consistent tone and unwavering pitch.

Misha used the binoculars to get a better look at the diva. “You’re right. She actually is great. She went from soprano to contralto seamlessly and is actually making an enjoyable sound. Usually one is only comfortable in one’s own range and only able to reach higher or lower ranges outside of their natural range with a proper melisma. It’s remarkable that she can pitch the notes perfectly from a high octave to fifth lower in such a short pace.”

“That she is,” Jensen agreed. He noticed Misha had become very interested and curious. Who knew that the man had such a good knowledge of vocal technique after he had admitted to not being particularly fond of opera? “It’s too bad that she’s very much underrated. I bet she could become much more popular if only didn't limit herself to opera plays only. She could be a real diva.”

“Yes, I agree. With a voice like that she could go far in the music industry. Have you tried to approach her?” asked Misha feeling genuinely curious as to the nature of the business meeting that night.

“I’m working on it.” Jensen smiled a little, a hopeful tone in his voice.

“Well, I’m not that familiar with the industry. Jeff never had any interest in it as far as I remember, he steered clear of it. I’m not sure if I can offer you any deal pertaining to that area,” explained Misha as he started to get the hang of the matter, or so he thought.

“No worries.” But Jensen quickly dissuaded his professional concern. “I was actually not intending to talk about her  this evening.”

“Oh?” Now, Misha was genuinely vexed and very curious.

“Yes!” Jensen affirmed before getting straight to the point. “I’m most interested in your food retailing. I have a new line in imported fruit syrups that are actually very good. Now, I understand that you control half that market in the city and I really don’t intend to step on your toes, so to speak. What I’d really like to discuss here is a profit share. If you let me market the syrup within your area, then, I’d gladly pass on twenty percent of the gross profit.”

“I think it can be arranged but twenty percent of the gross profit is too low. If you give me twenty five percent of the net, then we’ll have a deal. I’ll even arrange some advertising,” Misha offered. Now, he had really got the hang of this meeting.

“Would it be paper or television?” asked Jensen as he leaned his own chair becoming very interested in what Misha had to offer. “I’ve heard advertising on television can rake in the profits.”

“Television? Yes, it is. We’re heading towards a new age, but unfortunately I still haven’t finalized the negotiation on that area but paper still holds a strong sway,” Misha answered very diplomatically. It was in every mob bosses rule book for not showing your rival your weakness. He would not tell Jensen that he had not even thought of branching out his tentacles onto the moving and talking box of spectrums but it looked like he should give it at least some thought with Jensen seeming so interested.

“I know, Misha. I’ve already learned that the biggest printing business is in your pocket. It’s easy for you to manipulate information to benefit your interests,” said Jensen almost casually, yet Misha caught the underlying tone. He felt as if Jensen was sizing him up.

Misha laughed uneasily. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jensen. Why would I do that?”

“So you don’t deny having Benedict under your thumb? Perhaps it was you who orchestrated the news about my lifestyle and slandered my name?” Jensen trudged on; the accusation loud and clear in his cool, controlled tone of voice.

Misha’s  expression became cold and closed off after hearing Jensen’s accusation. He studied Jensen intently with his sharp blue eyes, weighing up the threat, as the head of the Ackles family sat calmly in his huge ornate golden chair, engaging Misha’s stare evenly.

“Did you kill Traci because she knew about your affiliation with Benedict or because she figured out the true nature of your association with Pellegrino?” Jensen continued, “tell me, Misha, did Pellegrino kill Morgan? Or did you just use his status as the black sheep of the family, to frame him?”

There was a tense silence after that as each gentleman mulled over their thoughts, calculating their next move.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)

Jared stoically held his hands steady as he put a sound suppressor, or in a more common term would be called a silencer, on the muzzle of his Nagant M1895, a gas seal revolver that he had procured illegally from his Russian contact. It was a very special pistol he mostly only used for very covert missions. Revolvers were usually impossible to silence but the one in Jared’s hand right now would do the job just fine. Many thought Jared’s skill was limited to knives and he was highly skilled in that department. Whispers within the mob world said that Jared’s knives were even faster that bullets. It was an exaggeration, of course, but who was he to complain. It was useful that they were afraid of him; it helped him maintain his power in the crime world.

He had hidden himself well between the gold and red frilly curtains and the poster. There were no hosts  around. They were busy attending to the needs of the guests, answering to their beck and call leaving the intersection unmanned as the man in  the lobby would intercept anyone who wished to enter the hall during the  performance. There was a small kitchen and a bar at the end of the hallways that catered to the needs of the VIP guests. So, Jared was sure that no one would pass by him at the intersection unless somebody was leaving the building. Even if they did he was already well hidden, waiting for his cue.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/) [](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00004bad/)

Jensen let the other man stew for a while before picking up the thread of conversation.

“I went there not because of your advice but more because I was curious,” Jensen broke the silence. “Finally I understand why you nudged me in that direction but I can’t help wondering about something.” Then, Jensen leaned his back on the right arm of his chair, folding his legs, propping his chin on his palm and giving Misha a probing look. “Did you deliberately send me to that club even though you were aware that Kim’s life could be in danger?”

“I knew you wouldn’t harm her unless provoked. Your interest was in Pellegrino, she wasn’t a threat to you. She was only there because she was confused,” Misha answered dispassionately.

“Then, I think you wouldn’t mind picking up those binoculars and taking a look at the box just across from this one,” said Jensen gesturing at the innocent looking binoculars on the small table between them. Right on cue, the curtains of the box opposite opened to reveal the occupants inside. It was too far away to see clearly who they were so, his curiosity peaked, Misha reached for the binoculars, honing in on that particular box.

Jensen quietly observed the proceedings; mainly studying his enemy’s gestures and tells. Yes, Misha was his enemy, had been for a while now. He was surprised it had taken him this long to figure it out. He already knew who was in the other box as he was the one who had arranged it. He also knew that two of his men had already had Kim Rhodes at the business end of their guns and that she was probably strapped to the chair waiting anxiously for her fate to be determined by her brother. Yes, Kim Rhodes was Misha’s half sister. Who would’ve guessed?

He saw Misha’s jaw line tense as he held the binoculars to his eyes but otherwise his features remained as closed off as before.

“I guess family don’t matter much to you,” commented Jensen as Misha slowly put the binoculars down in his lap. “Or am I wrong?”

“Why am I not surprised that you know that?” It was a rhetorical question but Jensen indulged him nonetheless.

“It’s not hard if you know who to ask, or who to threaten, to gain the info.”

“It was never my intention to kill Jeff-”

“...but, you had every intention to kill me, even cooking up an elaborate plan to sneak an assassin on to my property.”

“It was a given. With the death of Morgan, who was the one remaining player strong enough to master the world of crime? It was better to dispatch you as early as possible before you were aware of it.” Then, Misha chanced a look at Jensen, giving the younger man a small smile. “It’s the oldest rule in the book.”

“Ah...” Jensen smiled indulgently as he nodded his agreement. There was another silence as the two gentlemen enjoyed the melodic voice of a duo on the stage. “You love her, your sister,” said Jensen out of the blue. He was testing the waters for his theory.

“Half sister. Although, that was always highly questionable for me. I never knew my father and I never thought of her as my sister but she was disgusted all the same.”

“I bet you overused that reasoning to anyone questioning your lifestyle. An incestuous relationship, it was no better than what Jared and I have, which led me to wonder, how did you know about Jared and I?” asked Jensen, curious.

“Kim went to the same school as you when you lived in the Coral district. You were less discreet when you were young and you know how life is in boarding school, everybody talks,” informed Misha, to which Jensen commented with an indifferent hum.

“So… you let Pellegrino kill Morgan because your half sister/lover betrayed you by shacking up with the bandit and intentionally diverted my attention to him, while you neatly folded your hands and watched us destroy each other.  It really didn’t hurt that the man was already a crook, did it?” said Jensen drawing up his conclusion.

“It was a good plan.”

“Damn good one. Brilliant!”

“I had no problem with Jeff. He was a good boss, as good as a mob bosses get but he gave his nephew too much free reign and the ungrateful bastard never knew what was good for him. I couldn’t dispatch Pellegrino without upsetting loyalties but I knew that the bastard was itching to kill Morgan, as greedy as he was. I just need to turn to the other way when he made his move.”

Suddenly, Jensen launched himself over the small table and grabbed hold of the other man’s suit collar. “I don’t really care what you  do, or what anybody does behind closed doors,  but when you made it your business to poke around in my business, even going so far as to slander me, mess with my family and kill my employees then, you’d better pray I let you die peacefully,” Jensen hissed threateningly.

Both men were staring hard, almost literary breathing fire at each other. Jensen’s eyes were promising a severe and painful retaliation while Misha’s were full of cold resentment. Then, slowly, Jensen let his enemy go, going so far as to smooth his wrinkled collar before sitting back in his chair, straightening his own clothes. “But, don’t worry, Misha. I am not here to kill you now. Besides, I’m here alone and you have a bouncer outside the door.”  

“Please, like you go anywhere without your shadow,” Misha huffed in disbelief. His gaze returned back to the box across from them.

Jensen chuckled, “Contrary to popular belief, Jared and I aren’t attached at the hip, you know.”

Misha scoffed. He knew that the day Jensen and Jared parted would be the day the sun rose in the west.

Jensen raised his eyebrows. “I think our business here is done,” he said as he rose from his seat. He glanced at the box across the huge auditorium before leaving the room.

Not a minute after the door closed behind Jensen, Bern, Misha’s bodyguard entered.

“Sir?”

“I’m alright, Bern. Did Jensen leave the building?”

“I saw him walking towards the exit. Alone,” his bodyguard confirmed.

Misha rose to his feet after seeing the curtains close on the box opposite “We’re leaving.” His bodyguard held the door for him. “Keep your eyes peeled, Bern! And shoot, every suspicious person from here to the house.”

“Yes, sir!”

They walked down the  corridor together, Bern slightly behind  him, hand inside his jacket, gun ready. They reached the intersection without any hassle. Jensen was nowhere to be seen. Misha guessed he was probably out of the building already.

Jared bided his time. He saw Jensen walk past him on his way towards the exit and he watched him intently, ready to deal with any disturbance. He sighed in relief when Jensen cleared the golden door of the lobby knowing that another of their men was waiting outside to escort Jensen back to their house. So, he waited a while longer for his target to come into view.

Misha’s bodyguard was walking so closely behind him that it made it difficult for Jared to aim. Yet, it should not be a problem to get them both, he thought. A quiet ‘phut’ dropped the bodyguard to the floor and as Misha turned in surprise another bullet sailed through the air penetrating his heart. Jared emerged from behind the poster and headed for the nearest gold door, tapping it twice then once then twice more before it opened to reveal two men. They efficiently tidied up the crime scene, dragging the two bodies inside the nearest box, the one that Jake had booked under a fake identity. They would be found, but it would be later rather than sooner, hopefully hours after the opera was over and the hosts were tidying up for the night.

After putting the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door handle, Jared led his men through the staff exit that could be accessed from bar and kitchen at the end of the VIP’s hallway.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/) [](http://pics.livejournal.com/maaldas/pic/00003t4a/)

**The Executive Restaurant, Three weeks later...**

 

Jensen drank his bourbon slowly after swirling it around a couple of times in his glass. He was sitting lazily in the middle of the huge restaurant. People were chattering away around him and the band on stage played a jazz number to entertain the patrons. His gaze then fell on Jared who sat on his right eating a rather large slab of a well done cheese steak. He smiled fondly at his best friend/lover/right hand man/sub. It was such a long title that Jensen wondered what other roles Jared played in his life.

They were enjoying a rather lazy day. Finally, the hubbub had settled down after swirling around the city for almost two and a half weeks. The director and chief editor of one of the most influential newspaper in the city was now in Jensen’s pocket. As the saying goes, the one who owned the knowledge controlled the world. The Fox District was finally calm and on the mend, Jensen’s business was flourishing, Jim Beaver was running another bar, plus a bigger diner, Jensen had offered him a bigger place but the old man adamantly refused. Jensen was also considering buying a TV station as the new invention was looking very promising for the future or he could always set up a new one.

The murders of Misha Collins and Kim Rhodes (aka Red Rose) were left unsolved as Jared made sure to cover their traces well. After leaving the Opera house they had taken Kim Rhodes to her apartment and ended her life there. It would be years before the police could uncover the true mask and find the man behind the murders, if they ever could. Pellegrino’s body was never found as it was nothing more than charred black coal. He was unrecognizable as were the other men who died inside the burning club.

Jensen put his glass down on the table and reached for Jared. He lovingly caressed the back of his lover’s left hand with his knuckles before holding it in his grip as a waiter approached their table.

“May I refill your wine, sir?”

“Make it champagne, please. Put the bottle on ice and leave it here,” Jensen told the waiter. Jared looked up from his meal to watch the waiter signal his colleague to bring over a bottle of champagne to the table. He put down his knife and fork, raised his wine glass and drank from it.

The waiters filled the stainless steel bucket with enough ice before sinking the bottle inside. Jensen paid them no mind as he was engrossed by his lover’s hand, caressing it and kissing it, making Jared blush to the roots of his hair. Jared sat awkwardly on his seat while his eyes glanced over to the waiters next to them. After hiding their relationship behind closed doors for so long he was still uncomfortable with the public displays of affection Jensen had begun to bestow on him lately. He understood that Jensen needed to assert his dominance in the city and it seemed to be working; the two waiters who were serving them had not batted an eyelash at their quirky and slightly twisted way of life.

Jared’s right hand was fingering his table knife as was his nervous habit. Always be ready than sorry, he thought, but Jensen was persistent. He even dragged Jared's chair to be closer to him and reached for his lover’s chin. Jensen caught Jared’s lips in a slow kiss, taking his time. Jared hesitantly kissed him back as his eyes flitted over to the waiters as one of them clumsily dropped a corkscrew. Both waiters was fidgeting uncomfortably beside their table refusing to look at them but did not dare to leave his task unfinished. Jared swore that the noise level in the restaurant was suddenly dropped for at least 30 decibels. It was that eerie.

While Jensen, either genuinely unaware or deliberately ignoring it, was deepening his kisses and even letting out a low moan from his throat. Jared then had no choice other than kissing him back with as much enthusiasm as Jensen’s for he was never able to refuse Jensen anything. Especially, when his master was lusting at him like this, in a public place no less. Who knows public display of affection turned Jensen on.

After everything that happened the past few weeks, no one speak ill of their love life anymore. People were still talking behind their backs but it was a mere whisper at worst. They knew they could not do anything without provoking Jensen’s wrath and Jensen could not force silence to everyone but as long as the people did not give him and Jared grievance over their life style, he would happily let it go. It was not as if people had not got dirty secrets of their own. So, Jensen Ackles was a mob boss as well as a respectable gentleman and what he did with his right hand man, either behind closed door or otherwise, was  nobody else’s business but his own.

  
  
  
  
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The End


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